Just Breathe
by ponderer
Summary: The past year you two have been skirting around the issue of will he, will you, and the dance has come to an end, music switching to something else. [SPOILERS FOR HP&DH]


AUTHOR: soquitelovely

TITLE: Just Breathe

PAIRINGS: Ron and Hermione with slight mentions of Harry and Ginny

SPOILERS: All seven books

SUMMARY: The past year you two have been skirting around the issue of will he, will you, and the dance has come to an end, music switching to something else.

DISCLAIMER: I do not own J.K. Rowling's characters. I just wanted to put a little something together between the last chapter and epilogue of _Deathly Hallows_.

You patiently brush your brown hair from your eyes as you look at yourself in the mirror. You can remember a time when you used to huff and puff and continually pull your hair back, because you needed to see to read, to help Harry, to help end the war, to see Ron looking down his long nose at you. But, now, you really have no rush or anything to read, not at the moment at least, and you honestly don't want to read anything. You won't let Ron know that though, because he would only laugh. You were finally able to take a breath, and just be you. Oddly enough, you weren't sure who you were anymore. You think that maybe before all of this ever happened, the war, the friendships, acceptance letters, you were just a normal ten year old girl who had loving parents. You did you schoolwork, got along with other kids from class, and lived a fairly normal life. This wasn't the first time you had thought about the what-ifs. What if you hadn't become a witch? What would you have become in your life? Would there have been another Harry or Ginny, or another Ron? You think no, for all accounts, but mostly the tall redhead who's been on your mind, whether you've liked it or not, for the past seven years.

You tilt your head to the side, noting the dull brown eyes flashing before you, down to the freckles covering your nose and cheeks, down to a small curved mouth that hasn't stopped from smiling in seven days. Seven days since Harry killed Voldemort and the good side won. There had been a huge celebration, after all the cleaning and funerals and mourning, but parties were thrown and music was played and it was all just a really nice ending to it all. And yet, as you chew thoughtfully on your bottom lip, that maybe things aren't exactly back to normal. Not yet at least.

You sigh. Fred was gone and it was almost as if George was gone as well. Gone was the laughter and mischief from his eyes, gone was his playful smirk and gone was the walk of whatever it was he was up to. He was quiet and polite. You think back to all the times when you wished that the twins would stop bothering you, either them embarrassing Ron's crush on you, or you fondness for learning. But now, you crave that laughter and ease that came with the twins. You do know that George will slowly come back to his old ways, but half of him has gone on, a hero now in the eyes of his family.

You look at yourself in the mirror and notice the bruise that has stayed constant over the past week. You refuse to conceal the black and blue, instead proudly portray it to those around you, to show your courage and bravery, to show everyone that you've survived, and that finally everything is right in the world. And although you are now more patient and ready to relax, you haven't changed, not completely.

Things around the Burrow have changed, however. Percy is back home now, and he seems to be in high spirits, always at the ready to help with supper or to clean the garden with Ginny. Everyone has welcomed him home with open arms, and even though he still works for the Ministry, a new job though, he now works in the Care of Lost Family Members, to aid those families who have suffered losses from the war, he has lost his arrogance and snotty attitude, and is finally replaced with an easy step and easy smile. You do not know who is happier to see him home, his parents or siblings, but you note that everyone tries to engage him in a conversation, as if to not leave him out of anything. Percy seems to enjoy the meaningless stories, almost as if he truly missed out on important things.

You move from your spot from the mirror, instead going over to the window of Ginny and you're room. The sun has been down for only an hour, taking a long rest after having been shining brightly ever since the morning after the end of Lord Voldemort. Birds have been flying high, chirping and happily eating bugs, butterflies landing gracefully onto lilies and tulips in the garden. Molly has made a beautiful arrangement around the house you think, the colors of happiness and loyalty and friendship. Most importantly, the colors of love.

Arthur and Molly are as loving as always, and at this point after the war, they can finally be free in their expressions of others. Arthur works diligently at the Ministry, helping to take care of the Muggle side of the war, ensuring their safety and comforting those who have lost family. You think he'll be moving up soon, and his family has never been prouder to call him Dad. He takes time to hug all of his children before and after work, lovingly kissing his wife, and making sure to have you and Harry as comfortable as possible; which is not too hard sense both of you consider the Burrow your home. Molly stays busy with everyone home, cooking and cleaning with such a fierceness you have never seen. You admire her ethic, staying busy and always smiling. You have seen her once in the middle of the night crying, tears running down her round face, an old shirt of Fred's clutched in her arms. You had not tried to comfort her that night because it was a mother's right to mourn for her son by herself. If she needed you, she could find you. She always smiles in your direction, looking at you like a mother would to a daughter. You manage to blush, but you've come to accept them as family already. It is only a matter of time.

Ginny is all flair and confidence now. You were not too close to her during the war for obvious reasons, but you are very proud to call her your friend. The way she had stood up for Harry while she attended school was very brave, even after he broke her heart. Her shoulders are straight back, her chin held high, and eyes bright, especially when around a certain green eyed boy. No, a man, you think. And Ginny has also realized this as well. You barely see them without the other, always touching in some way, a hand on a leg, waist, face, wherever. Ginny is the one that keeps them altogether now, you think, because she makes sure Harry doesn't close up and hide away, which would worry you and Ron, as well as the rest of the Weasley clan. She plans to continue on with her final year of Hogwarts in the fall, and although you know Harry will miss her dearly, another year won't harm them. No; you think they'll make it forever.

Harry is finally able to enjoy himself. He is now grown into a man, who's lost his boyishness in all the fighting and worry and has become quite handsome. With his loving and beautiful girlfriend at his side, he has become more open with his feelings towards everyone, being able to say he loves you, as a friend of course, and has even managed to say it to Ron without blushing or anything else equally as awkward. He's hugged all the Weasley men with gratitude and relief, and has managed to always smile. His shoulders are never down, his face is never screwed up in thought, hands never clenched tightly in a fist. He is open and free and can just be Harry. He's your best friend, your hero, the man you've come to love as a brother. You were glad to have met him those seven years ago and you continue to thank your lucky stars that he chose you to be on his side. He decided to use his brains for a career, choosing to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts and writes books about his life, letting the world know of his triumph, with no one in his way of telling him otherwise.

You lay down in your bed, waiting for Ginny to come in. You know she went out for a walk with Harry after dinner, and that was hours ago. You know she'll have much to say to you when she comes back, but you are glad that they are off together finally. You clutch your pillow to your chest, closing your eyes and smile at the image of another redhead. The feel of his lips pressed against yours, soft and full, his long freckled arms wrapped around you, full of strength and warm, the scent of his cologne, spicy and natural; all purely Ron. You haven't kissed since the end of it all, but you know it won't be long until you'll be together for real. The past year you two have been skirting around the issue of will he, will you, and the dance has come to an end, music switching to something else. Your image comes to a stop when the door opens and closes quietly. The room is dark now, and you keep your eyes closed just to see what will happen. However, you are surprised when the voice is not Ginny's.

"Hermione, are you awake?"

"Ron?" you reply, sitting up just as he reaches your bed. He sits down at your waist, immediately reaching out to touch your hands, your face, your arms; any skin that is bare. You look at him in concern, allowing him to look you over. "Is something wrong?"

"No, just I… I've missed you is all," he says quietly, his hands coming to rest on your cheeks, his eyes sweeping up your face and giving a fleeting glance down at your lips, before gazing into your eyes.

You giggle, a sound new to you still, but no uncommon when around Ron. "I haven't been anywhere for you to miss me."

"I know that. It's just different now, isn't it?" He pleads with you with his bright blue eyes, and you can read him so openly now without having to see how red his ears or neck are. He now wears his heart on his sleeve and it is alarming to see him so open towards you. You are still confused by his question, and you can see he understands that. He sighs and gets up from your bed, and begins to pace. He runs his hands through his long hair, now reaching his shoulders, curling at the nape of his neck. You wish he would come back to bed and let you run your fingers through it. "It's different. You're going away, and Harry will be away, and I'll still be here. Even Ginny will be gone. It's just, different."

You cock your head to the side thoughtfully, watching him try to explain his feelings. You think he looks beautiful standing there in the moonlight streaming in through the windows. He's tall, with broad shoulders, and athletic build. Wearing a new pair of pajama bottoms and faded Cannon's shirt, he walks with grace and dignity. "Ron…"

"Hermione, please, it's different okay? And it seems like no matter what I do, I can't help but feel like I'm drowning. And I should be happy right now, you know? The war is over, the good guys won, and yes we lost Fred, but you're safe and Harry's safe, and Mum and Dad and Ginny and everyone else… but I feel like something's missing."

"What's missing then?"

He moves suddenly, looking towards you with a passion you have only seen when he's angry, fire and spirit glowing in the depths of blue. He clenches his hands at his sides and briskly walks to you, and pulls you up to stand before him. He towers over you now easily, and he cranes his neck down at you, his breath coming over in warm sweeps over your face. "I'm tired of skirting around this issue of us, okay? I'm sorry that I haven't said anything else this week, but I just, I needed some time because it's finally here right? I mean, I want to be with you, for as long as I can remember, and I'm so sorry about last year and I'm sorry for leaving you with Harry, and I'm just sorry okay. And I love you Hermione, and I want you to be mine and I don't want to you to leave me. Not when we can finally be together. For real, you know? With a house and I'll get a job, a good one, and I'll build you a library, so big you can have thousands of books and plenty of tables to read and do research, and just, anything you want. I just don't want to wait anymore."

You grin, and shuffle your feet out of girly glee. "Oh Ron." He sighs again, moving his face away from you, fearing to hear something else. "You know I love you. I have for so long, that I'm not sure when we stopped just being friends. And I'm never leaving you, not again. I'm going to get my parents soon, and when I do I want to be able to introduce you as my boyfriend." He smiles at this, and opens his mouth to speak, but you put your finger at his lips to stop him. "But, you don't have to get a job just to give me everything I want. I want you to want it all too. You need to do what you want."

"But I want to be with you. I don't care where or how…"

"I know Ronald, I know," you kiss his cheek, then move over to the other. You bury your face into his chest, listening to his heart beat, something so precious and beautiful. "If we're going to make this work, and I want this to work so much, but we need to go about things slowly okay? We have all the time in the world now to do what we want. We have no rush for anything."

He leans down, his forehead to yours, blue eyes gazing into brown. "You're so smart. Sometimes I wonder why someone so smart would choose a bloke like me."

"I wonder the same thing about you." You smile, reaching up to place your lips over his, a gentle loving kiss.

"I love you," he murmurs, his mouth hovering over yours. You mumble something back to him, but he seems to understand and before long you are kissing again, except it's more like the first kiss, with passion and love and lust. You sway in his arms, fearing that your weak knees will let you slip to the floor in a heap. He keeps you upright though, and you somehow end up pushed against the wall. His long body traps you, his hands running everywhere from your collar bone, to your waist, and over to rest over you breast, cupping it gently. You feel his tongue open your mouth and tangle with yours and you hear a moan, but you aren't sure if it's you or him, but it feels too good what he's doing, so you allow yourself to tilt your head to a better angle, your hands running through his hair, and around his neck, and down his chest.

He groans as he roughly pulls himself away, forcing you to fall back on the bed with a slight bounce. He's leaning against the wall next to the dresser, a picture of the three of you grinning and waving. His chest is heaving from his large gasps of breath and he just openly stares at you. You let his eyes look you over, you wearing a nightgown of Ginny's, one that is a bit too tight for your liking, but Ron seems to appreciate it. You've noticed you've grown a backbone with him in those few moments of just staring at each other, and before you know it, you're standing and slowly approaching him. He's not moving, but his eyes won't leave yours, a passion burning through his gaze. You know he's at his breaking point, and you realize this is what you love about him. You are the only one who knows exactly what buttons to push to get him like this.

You stand before him, before moving your arms to cup his face in your hands, and kissing his forehead, his eyelids that have fallen closed, his cheek, then the other, and finally the small dimple in his chin. He hasn't moved and his eyes are still closed when you pull away, but you stand there and breathe in his scent, comforting and spicy and warm and just simply Ron, and you can't take it anymore because his mouth is just too tempting and you realize that even though you have all the time in the world, you don't want to wait anymore.

You hear his back forcefully hit the wall as you push your mouth on his, moving your lips roughly, the lust for him growing at a rate you've never felt before, and suddenly his arms are around you and he's switched positions so you're against the wall and he's lifted you up so your smooth legs are around his waist. He braces one hand against the wall while the other cups your breast, moving in circles. His mouth kisses down your face and your arch your back exposing your neck to him where he welcomes the new skin with wet and forceful kisses. You use your arms around his neck to bring him closer, but it's not close enough, and you suddenly need to be so close because this isn't enough, not nearly enough, and you tug on his hair to bring his mouth back to yours.

You aren't acting like yourself, and realize that you haven't really been yourself because you don't know who you are anymore, not when you're with Ron. You become a person so unlike the bookish and prude girl who bosses her friends around. Instead, you become a lustful, passionate woman who adores this man so much that it hurts and makes you feel so much that you feel like you'll explode. And you fear that if you hadn't gotten that acceptance letter, had not survived the war or anything, you wouldn't be here to experience and have this man. Because you know this is it for you, he's the one and you're his forever, and maybe it won't be perfect and it'll be messy and it can't be planned. But as he clumsily turns and carries you over to your bed, leans over you, pulls your night gown over your head, kisses his way down your body, enters you, it's all just, okay and wonderful and so imperfect that it becomes perfect. And you've never felt more beautiful, even with that stupid bruise and his scars down his arms. You stay in bed afterwards, listening to him breathe in and out and in turn, you smile, finally being able to just lay together in the still of the Burrow and be happy. Or most importantly, just be Hermione and Ron.


End file.
